The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) (3 page)

Sylvia’s lips twitched. “Next month’s column will be titled, ‘A Month in Hayden Dean’s Shoes.’”

Melina’s stomach fell. “Hayden Dean.”

“The one and only.”

She’d been right earlier. To get her dream job, she’d have to make a steaming pile of dog crap look good. Only Hayden Dean didn’t look like dog crap. As a matter of fact, he had the classic good looks of a Greek god.

Dog crap,
she reminded herself, as she marched out of Sylvia’s office, football game ticket in hand.
Hot—
really freaking hot
—steaming, dog crap.

Chapter Three

Standing square on the fifty-yard line, Hayden introduced players from the last thirty years into the 49ers Hall of Fame. He waved and smiled for the cameras, and shook hands with the 49er Foundation Board of Directors and honorable officers.

His father had donated his time and charity to his favorite team, using Angus Dean Investment Services, and passed along his love of football to Hayden. Now, one year after Angus’s death, Hayden was honored to accept an award in his father’s name.

After his duties were finished, he swept into the wolf pack’s luxury suite. He expected Melina to be waiting for him. Silky dark hair falling over her shoulders. Sexy brown eyes. The petite little thing was a vixen, haunting his dreams.

The suite was empty. Not even the sight of his favorite food and drinks arranged on a long table against the wall to his right could soothe the disappointment souring his stomach. The wolf pack had followed his orders to the letter. Nachos with chili and jalapenos. Mini hot dogs. BBQ Sausage links. They even got the beer fountain right.

His stomach growled fiercely, but he couldn’t eat.

Not until she showed up and he could put his anxiety to rest.

The first quarter went by in a blur. The 49ers were at the top of their game. The crowd roared, rising to their feet, swinging red-and-gold T-shirts over their heads. But Hayden couldn’t celebrate the two early touchdowns with them. He stood near the back of the suite, rods of tension hardening his body to the point of pain. He was going to need a massage after this; he’d have knots for days.

All this from merely thinking about Melina coming back into his life, even if it was only for a month.

Why couldn’t he have met her at a different time, under different circumstances? During their interview at Starbucks last year, he’d tried to play it cool, the way he did with every other woman. But she didn’t fall for any of his lines or believe any of his bullshit. She seemed to look right through him. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt as if he could be himself. As if he could tell her anything. He’d felt a spark of…
something
…between them, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. It was damn strange. Acting on the primal impulse howling in his gut, he’d invited her to the Silverlight awards.

Terrible timing.

Hours before the awards show, a rogue wolf had kidnapped their first victim: a turned wolf from the Alpha’s private council. Hayden’s father recovered a note left behind in his office. It was a declaration of war on turned wolves and non-shifters associated with the wolf pack.

Inviting Melina, a non-shifter, to a very public event like the Silverlight Awards would’ve been interpreted as Hayden’s official stance on the issue. It would’ve put a target on his back, and the Alpha’s. More importantly though, Melina would’ve been an irresistibly sexy bleep on the rogues’ radar. They would’ve gone after her—he knew it with every fiber of his being. And although he’d only known her a few short hours, he felt something for her. He was too involved to risk her safety.

To keep things neutral, Angus had demanded that Hayden choose a born shifter from the pack as his date instead.

He’d chosen another date to keep her safe, to keep that precious heart beating in her chest.

He hadn’t called to cancel his date with her. How would he have explained it? “Hey, I can’t take you to the Silverlight Awards or my Alpha werewolf father could be targeted by a group of rogue wolves. Oh yeah, one more thing. If you’re associated with me, they’ll probably hunt you down and rip your heart out. Sorry.”

Who would believe such a thing?

He could nearly feel the burn of the slap across his cheek now.

He’d tried to brush off her memory as best he could, though it’d been damn hard.

Now, with his Alpha
worthiness
in question and the rogue wolves gaining strength, he couldn’t, under any circumstances, let Melina get too close to him.

No matter how much he ached for it.

A year apart might’ve dulled the instant attraction
, Hayden told himself as he poured himself a beer and flopped into a seat against the glass. As long as they didn’t get personally involved, it’d be fine. She wouldn’t have a target on her back if she were merely a columnist doing a piece on him.

Where the devil was she, anyway?

As halftime kicked off and the teams filed into the locker rooms, Hayden propped his feet on the seat in front of him. Kiss Cams cued up on the massive screens situated around the stadium, and the crowd erupted into
oohs
and
aahs
. He was half-interested, leaning back to drink his beer, when a familiar brunette appeared on the screen.

Melina.

She’d pulled her dark hair into a ponytail that emphasized the sharpness of her cheeks, the sweet pout of her lips, and the almond shape of her eyes.

The blood lurched through his veins, and then went cold.

She wore tight black jeans, and a Diehard Raider Fan T-shirt…to the Niner game. The crowd booed at the sight of the rival’s apparel. She waved an arm over her head, laughed, and kissed the old man beside her on the cheek.

Hayden growled from deep within his chest.

She’d left him in the suite waiting for her to arrive while she partied in the crowd?

Painted on the wall over her shoulder, he spotted C136.

…

Melina hollered as the 49ers returned to the field for the third quarter. She didn’t think twice about booing, and had already moved seats twice to avoid ruining the game for the fans surrounding her.

It was a good thing the stadium was nearly empty. There were a ton of seats available to steal for a few minutes each. Another few downs and she’d head up to the suite to face Hayden.

She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Nerves still rattled in her belly and her hands clammed from the thought of meeting him face-to-face.

As the Cardinals kicked off and the Niners received, the returner took off down the field with the ball. Melina held her breath as the runner ate up ground, cutting this way and that, until he reached the twenty-yard line. A few more strides and he’d earn them another touchdown.

“Get ’em!” Melina screamed, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Come on!”

Out of nowhere, a Cardinal defensive player darted in from the left side of the field and dove into the red-and-gold runner, knocking him to the ground. The ball came loose. The Cardinal player landed on it and curled into a ball.

The crowd went silent in disapproval. Or shame, she guessed.

Whooping, Melina threw her arms into the air, knocking into someone next to her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so—” She spun, and her words died off.

Hayden stood in the aisle beside her chair, his arms in the air, an empty pint glass tilting in his hand. And a giant wet spot soaked his 49er T-shirt. The liquid smelled like beer from where she stood, though that could’ve been the old guy next to her.

He removed his gaze from his beer-drenched shirt, sucked in a short breath, and leveled her with a heated gaze. “What are you doing?” His words were clipped. Harsh and cold. She’d be cold too, if she’d just had an entire pint of beer poured down her chest.

What
was
she doing? How to answer…
“
Umm…I’m root-root-rooting for the home team?”

He made a growling sound—
who does that?—
and wrung out the bottom of his T-shirt. “You were supposed to meet me in the suite.” Two long pauses, and then, “Did you lose your ticket?”

She shook her head as the crowd went wild behind her. “No, I have it.”

“I was waiting,” he said. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” She smirked, and watched as his gaze landed on her mouth. Her insides trembled. “I’m here now. Want to get started?”

His jaw clenched, and a wall went up behind his eyes. “I have to change. You should too, before you get jumped. The fans here don’t take well to black and silver. Did you bring anything to cover up with? A coat or a blanket?”

“Cover up?” A laugh bubbled out of her as she turned her attention to her rocking ensemble. “There’s no way I’d cover this up. Besides, even if I did bring something, it wouldn’t be the color you’re obviously looking for. I don’t own anything red.”

“Nothing?”

Something about the way he spoke the word made her think of naughty red silky things he’d peel from her quivering body.

“Nope.” She squeezed into the aisle, careful not to brush him. One touch and he’d feel the gooseflesh covering her arms. He couldn’t know the effect he was having on her body. He was heartless. Cold.
That’s the way she had to be
, she remembered. “What about you? Do you own anything as black as your heart?”

“Ouch.” He pierced his lips together, and then nodded. “I guess I deserve those jabs after leaving you behind at the Silverlights.”

At least he remembered the extent of his douchebaggery. “You think?”

The crowd erupted. Another 49er touchdown.

He leaned in close, catching her off-guard. She held her breath as he whispered, “I’m sorry for the way that went down, and I don’t have an explanation other than I was an inconsiderate ass. I know you probably won’t believe it, but I did you a huge favor that night.” He pulled back, leaving her shaking on unsteady legs. “You deserve way better than a guy like me.”

He stared, waiting for her to answer.

She shook her head, speechless at the sympathetic tone in his apology. And it sounded sincere, damn it. She softened, despite the anger she tried to summon.

“I’m going back to the suite,” he said, turning to head up the stairs. “I’m going to change, get another beer, and then we can talk about the boundaries of our agreement.”

Hayden was notorious for ditching out on his responsibilities. Yet here he stood, eager to talk about their agreement?

She hadn’t prepared her defenses for that.

She should still be angry with him, shouldn’t she? In spite of everything, she didn’t feel that way. She felt surprisingly,
stupidly
…intrigued.

“Okay,” she said, a bit rattled. “I’ll be right behind you.”

As she watched him march up the stairs, Melina got the feeling Hayden expected this article to be written on his terms. Saying exactly what
he
wanted to say, showing only the parts of him that
he
wanted to show.

Well, he had another thing coming.

She’d write the article
Eclipse
wanted. She’d make Hayden look like a golden warrior of virtue if that’s what earned her a job there. But along the way, she’d try to dig up every single dirty deed he’d ever done. And then, when the time was right, she’d expose Hayden Dean’s dirtiest secrets to the world.

She hid the smile curling the corners of her lips, steeled herself against his natural charm, and trudged up the stairs behind him.

Chapter Four

Hayden struggled to control his breathing as he marched up the last stair and turned toward the direction of the luxury suite. From the moment Melina bumped into him, her drugging aroma had assaulted him. He felt winded, as if the air refused to fill his lungs. Even in human form, he could sense hints of the lavender in her shampoo and the honey fragrance in her lotion. He wanted to drag her against him, bury his face in her hair, and take a deep, heavenly breath until she consumed him.

Note to self: have Gabriel stock up on nose plugs. Melina’s scent was bound to drive him mad.

He could sense other things about her, too. She was stalking behind him, her stride slow and sure, her gaze measuring everything around them. He could almost feel her eyes on his back. If he listened closely, the strong, strumming sound of her heartbeat whispered to him, calling him closer.

He’d never been so in tune with a woman before.

Why couldn’t things have been different? If she’d been born a werewolf, they could’ve been together. The pack would’ve accepted her with open arms. But as a non-shifter, she didn’t belong in his world. And the timing was horrible considering there were rogue wolves roaming the city streets, determined to do anything to keep people like her out.

If they got together—
damn,
what he wouldn’t give to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to bed, even once—she’d be in danger.

He couldn’t do that to her.

She didn’t ask to be a part of his world.

He’d have to keep his distance. Leave her be. Keep her safe.

“We’re almost there. It’s the second door on the left.” He craned his neck around to meet her gaze, and then pointed to a cart selling 49er gear. “You want to pick something up? I can spot you twenty.”

She puckered her lips in defiance and kinked her head to the side. “Not hardly.”

“There he is!” Screeching voices brought Hayden’s gaze back to center. A group of twenty-something women huddled near the door to the suite, hands covering their mouths. “Oh my god!”

“It’s him!”

“Hayden Dean!”

High-pitched screams bounced off the walls and lanced through his eardrums. He froze as the group rushed him, circling like hungry predators, anxious to overwhelm their prey. Melina fell back, out of sight. Hayden’s nose tingled, as if instinctively searching her scent out among the others.

“How are you ladies doing tonight?” he said to one. She giggled and squealed to the friend beside her instead of answering—the usual response he received from a female. “I’m doing great too, thanks. Enjoying the game.”

“Are you still with Heidi?” the redhead at his left asked. “You two were the hottest couple in Hollywood.”

Except he didn’t live in Hollywood. Dean, Hyde, & Hammer didn’t have offices there, either. And he’d never dated Heidi. She was simply a woman he’d driven home after she’d had one-too-many drinks at a club in the Lower Haight. A handful of e-magazines had snapped a photo of the woman in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, as they headed out of the club. The magazines crafted the headlines to make it appear as if Hayden was escorting the woman back to his place to take advantage of her inebriated state.

It seemed no one cared about the truth.

And that might’ve been all right. Because if people focused on the lies, they wouldn’t dig deeper to know the
real
truth. It was better to be seen as a playboy than a werewolf.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked a blonde. He grinned. She winked and reached for his crotch. “Easy, now. There’s enough of me to go around.” Redirecting the bold move, he grabbed her hand, kissed the back, and replaced it at her side. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure meeting you all.” As he skirted toward the suite, they followed, their words jumbling into giddy shrieks. They smelled like a cocktail of sin, hairspray, and vanilla lotion. It burned his nose, the way a non-shifters scent usually did. Well, with the exception of Melina’s. “Unfortunately, I have to run. I’ve got some important business to take care of.” He waved, blew a kiss—his signature move—and backed into the suite. “Ms. Rae, are you lost?”

“No, I’m coming,” she said, pushing her way through. “Just swamped back here.”

Nothing could drown her out; she was foolish to think it. A gigantic spotlight might as well have been trained on her. Her lips were plush—though pinched in irritation—and her dark hair shone with honey highlights. God, those strands would be silky-smooth weaving through his fingers, wouldn’t they?

“She’s writing an article on me for
Celeb Crush
,” he told the crowd, pushing the door open to let Melina in. “Look for it next month.”

And then this would be over. He’d never have to see Melina Rae again.

His stomach tightened.

…

Melina waited for the door of the luxury suite to
click
closed before turning around to face him. “Don’t you have bodyguards to take care of your groupies?”

He seemed to pause, staring at the closed door as if he was lost in thought. Maybe he was thinking about escaping. If he knew how bitter she was about being stood up, he’d be smart to do it.

“I don’t like bodyguards tailing me to games. Makes too much of a scene.” He strode to a bucket of jerseys in the corner, swiping his hands on his dark-washed jeans as he went. He swung open the door and took a deep breath. “And they’re fans, not groupies. Big difference between the two.”

“Which is?”

“Groupies have psychotic tendencies.”

“Sounds like you know something about it.” Too bad security wouldn’t let her bring her purse into the stadium. She would’ve liked to take notes on her iPad for the article.

Oh yeah, here comes the dirt.

“Believe it or not, I’ve never dated a groupie. Doesn’t mean there haven’t been a few who’ve
thought
they dated me from something as simple as a hello or good morning.”

“If you don’t want to give the wrong impression, you might want to rethink, you know—” Melina shrugged, kinking her head to the side to play the part of a ditzy blonde. “—leading them on and dating a new one every month.”

It wasn’t rocket science. If he wasn’t interested, he shouldn’t play with a woman’s emotions.

Without saying a word, Hayden stripped the beer-soaked shirt from his torso. Layer upon layer of glistening gold muscle twitched and flexed as he flung it to the floor near the jersey bucket.

“Jesus,” Melina breathed, and spun around to check the scoreboard. The Cardinals were up by sex.
Six,
she corrected mentally. They were up by six. She plopped onto one of the barstools near the glass and looked out over the field. “You’re certainly not shy, are you?’

“No, not anymore.” He spoke slowly, the tiny hint of a drawl escaping his lips. “There’s no room for shyness when you grow up in the spotlight. Since I was twelve, I’ve gone to nearly every charity event associated with my father’s companies. Know what it’s like to have a publicly documented history of your awkward years?”

She shuddered at the thought.

“Yeah,” he said, appearing beside her. “That’s my reaction, too. If the world wants to take pictures of me now, so be it. Nothing can be worse than the others out there.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Melina watched Hayden yank a dry 49er jersey down his abs. She forced her body to chill out. One glimpse of those ridges on his stomach, and she’d started to sweat.

He took the barstool next to her and faced her, his legs spread slightly, one foot kicked up on the bottom rung. His dark hair was stylishly disheveled, his eyes narrowed. Damn, if she had a camera, she’d snap this shot of him and sell it to
GQ
. It’d make front page, and earn her a killing.

He was effortlessly sexy, a model of powerful grace.

“We should set the ground rules for this article,” he said, his voice a sexy rumble.

Melina almost fell back from the heat of him. The intensity and smolder in those chocolate-brown eyes.

“You can ask anything about me, my habits and food preferences or whatever, but the focus remains on me and me alone. My family and close circle of friends are not to be discussed.” He tipped back his glass. “Period.”

“That’s fine.”

She didn’t want to destroy their reputation. Just his. It was oddly chivalrous of him to want to protect them from the scrutiny of the public eye. The thought struck her as honorable, but she dismissed it. He must’ve had another reason for the request.

“I don’t want any mention of my home,” he went on, “and I don’t want anything discussed further back than the last fifteen years.”

Control issues, much?
“I don’t quite understand the part about your home, but if that’s what you want, it’s doable.”

“Perfect. Glad we’re clear on that.” He stretched his leg out and tapped his foot against her stool. “Did your editor give you any direction for the article?”

“She told me to make you look good.” Melina watched absentmindedly as the 49ers charged downfield and scored. “My job is usually pretty easy, but you’ve got a track record, so it’s not like I’m working with a blank slate. People already have an opinion of you in their mind. I’ll simply have to tweak it.”

“What’s their opinion?” He fist-pumped the bar when the 49ers kicked their extra point. It was good, slicing through the uprights. “What do people think about me?”

She took a long, hard drink, hoping she wouldn’t have to be so direct, especially to his face. Although she couldn’t turn down the job offer from
Eclipse
to make Hayden look good—especially if they were offering her a stab at a print run—writing an article exposing Hayden as a chauvinistic pig sounded much more appealing.

“I’m sure you know what everyone is saying. You can’t go into a grocery store without seeing your face on the cover of a dozen magazines.”

“Oh, I see those magazines, and I read some of the articles. They’re rather comical, actually.” He stared, his fingers tapping along the length of the bottle. “But I’d like to hear it from you. What do you think?”

If he cared so much about what she thought of him, maybe he should’ve thought twice about standing her up without so much as a phone call last year.

“I’m not going to put my opinion into the article, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she mumbled into another drink. “I’m going to report the truth, add a lot of fluff, and a glossy veneer.”

“Believe it or not, there aren’t many people in my inner circle who’ll even give me that much. They think I’ll fire them for being honest. They say one thing to my face and another behind my back. Something tells me you’ll be honest with me, and I’m not talking about the ‘truth’ that you’re going to write later this month. I believe you’ll give it to me straight.”

Fine. He wanted it. He was going to get it.

Sighing, Melina closed the distance between them, and held her breath so she wouldn’t lose the nerve to say what had to be said. “I think you’re a playboy, the heir to a huge fortune who squanders it away on hot parties and plastic women, and buys the fastest, most expensive cars he can, because he can.”

He shook his head. “Nah, beyond all that. Give it to me, Melina.”

Oh, God.
Her panties melted at the words.

Idiot. That’s not what he meant.
Didn’t matter. Her mind instantly went
there.

“Okaaay.” She breathed deep, willed the tingling in her middle to subside, and braced herself for the bitter truth pushing at her lips. “I think you put yourself in the public eye so people will be so blinded by the pretty face in front of them that they won’t bother digging deeper. Because somewhere inside you”—she pointed a finger toward his stone cold heart—“there’s a secret you’ve locked away like a caged animal so no one will see it.”

If people were too busy gawking and criticizing his lifestyle choices, they wouldn’t see what a failure he’d become in his father’s eyes. At least that’s the kind of gems she’d picked up from reading
Eclipse
’s “Taking Control Over Your Past” column.

Hayden paled, his pupils widening as he looked down at the finger pointing into his chest. An electric current zinged through her finger pad into her hand. She took it back, rubbing where it had warmed. Tingles covered her body, from the back of her neck to the tips of her toes.

Tension-filled silence ballooned into the space between them.

“I want more,” he whispered so softly, she thought she’d misheard.

“Excuse me?” Her heart faltered. Apparently it heard his words loud and clear. “More of what?”

“Honesty.” After rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he cleared his throat and readjusted the jersey over his shoulders. For the first time, he looked rather uncomfortable in his skin. “I asked for the truth. I didn’t expect you to save me a month’s worth of therapy. What’s my secret?”

“I don’t know,” she stated simply. “You tell me.”

He rapped his hands over his knees as if he was gearing himself up for something, and then swiped his glass off the table to take a hearty drink. “I’d rather not. I would like to know what you think about my image, though. From the outside looking in.”

“It’s tarnished.”

Outside, the crowd went wild, so she checked the field. Cardinals were down with five minutes to go, but victory was theirs with a touchdown and two-point conversion.

“Redeemable?” Hayden swallowed hard.

She hesitated, puckering her lips. On the outside, Hayden had a lot going for him—financial stability, strong genes, a sexy voice, an honest career—if only people could get past the party boy, playboy image. And that would only happen if he were through partying and manipulating women.

“Jury’s still out,” she said.

“Fair enough.” He rolled his fingers over his pint glass, and Melina realized he was tapping in some sort of a rhythm. Did he play piano? He took a deep breath and said, “If you were in a position to give me a leadership role, a big one, let’s say, would you trust it to me?”

“That depends.” A nervous giggle skipped out of her. “When you say leadership role, do you mean Head of the Jelly-of-the-Month Club or President of the United States?”